


Adrift!

by Rosie_Rues



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-05
Updated: 2006-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-22 19:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosie_Rues/pseuds/Rosie_Rues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, it all began with <a href="http://summersalts.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://summersalts.livejournal.com/"><b>summersalts</b></a> wondering why there weren't enough Marauders on a school trip fics, and then my crack!muse got a little out of hand... *sighs* Okay. No excuses. I was just feeling silly. MWPP on a raft in the middle of the bright, blue sea....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adrift!

"It's no good," Sirius said dolefully. "We'll have to eat Wormtail."

James looked up from where he was trying to fix the rainwater collector they had made out of Sirius' robes (Remus' were too holey, his own too imbued with Muggle aftershave, and, as Peter had pointed out vehemently, Sirius didn't burn _and_ had no nudity taboos)

"What?" Peter squeaked. "Fuck off!"

"Can't," said Sirius. "Too much sea."

He had a point. As far as the eye could see the blue ocean stretched out around them. They'd been out here for days (well, hours at least) and there was not a sail in sight.

"And whose fault is that?" Remus asked shortly from where he was hanging over the edge of the raft. Who would have thought werewolves got seasick?

"Not mine," James said hurriedly. Sirius had thought of the portkey, and Peter had made it. He might have been the first one to declare that Blackpool was boring but none of this was _his_ fault. Not this time.

"I'm hungry!" Sirius moaned, and poked Peter's arm. "Look - plump and tender and juicy."

"Fat!" yelped Peter. "Come on, Padfoot, you sulk if the house elves don't trim the fat off your bacon in the morning. You'd hate to eat me."

Sirius frowned, chewing his lip. "Hmm."

"Eat Prongs," Peter suggested.

"Hey!" Some friends they were.

"Can't," Sirius said. "Would be wrong."

"But it's fine to eat _me?_ "

"Yup." His eyes were glazing over. "Steak. Pretty, juicy rat steak."

Peter's eyes narrowed and his nose twitched. He purred, "Venison."

They both looked at James. Sirius tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Moony! Sit up and be the voice of reason! They want to eat me!"

"I'm busy," Remus said primly.

Sirius, distracted, turned round to crouch beside him, curling his hand around Remus' shoulder. "Are you still puking?"

"No."

"I told you should have stayed in the hospital wing," Peter said, crawling over to join them.

The raft dipped alarmingly.

"Wormtail!" James roared. "Here!"

Peter shuffled back to his side of the raft.

The problem was, James decided, bracing himself and waiting for the raft to steady, that none of them actually liked Muggle Studies. He was taking it because he had thought Lily might be impressed ( _Lily! O fair Lily! If they eat me will she weep on my grave? Will I even have a grave if these bastards eat me?_ )

"Y'know," Peter said. "We should have rum."

Sirius was taking the subject to piss his parents off. Remus might need to actually live like a muggle one day. Peter just didn't want to be left out.

Which should have meant that no professor in their right mind would have organised a field trip. Particularly not one to somewhere with a coastline, paddle boats to transfigure and shops that sold pirate flags.

"Can't drink on an empty stomach," Sirius said. "Moony, why are you growling at those fish?"

"What fish?" Peter asked, leaning over the other side.

"The big grey ones with fins."

"Not fish," said Remus. "Sharks."

Peter squeaked.

"Grr," Remus said again, glaring down into the water.

James looked at Sirius. Sirius looked back. James made a _I'm not going to ask - why don't you?_ face. Sirius shrugged.

"I think they're still making their minds up whether they're scared of werewolves," Remus added thoughtfully.

James looked at Remus. As resident werewolves went theirs was, well, a bit pale and scrawny. He knew that Moony was a match for anything up to a small Norwegian Ridgeback, but you wouldn't know it to look at him.

"Rawr."

"Can I help?" Sirius asked.

"No."

"Spoilsport."

Peter was frowning and twiddling a fold of his robes in that way which meant he'd just seen the detention-inducing flaw in an otherwise perfect prank. "Um, Moony?"

"Yes?"

"Wasn't the full moon yesterday?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Well spotted, old boy."

"Well, doesn't that mean that you won't be big enough to take on a shark for another-"

"Shush," Remus said. "They might hear you."

Everyone edged closer to the middle of the raft. James looked wistfully at the clear blue sky. Not even an albatross. Lily would cry, he was sure, and then he could return from the dead to comfort her. Though he'd probably be all maggoty by then, so maybe she wouldn't be too comforted.

"I'm hungry!" Peter wailed.

"Shut up, Wormtail!" James and Sirius said in the same moment. Peter snickered.

James could feel his nose beginning to peel. He said as much.

"Roast venison," said Peter dreamily.

"Mmm," Sirius added, licking his lips.

"I still don't see why we have to eat somebody," Remus put in. "Woof."

"You can't say _woof_!" Sirius protested.

"I just did. Aroooo."

James rubbed his scorched forehead. Why did these things always have to happen to him?

"We have to eat someone," Sirius explained, "because that's the way it works. The heroes _never_ get rescued before they eat one of their crewmates."

There was a thoughtful silence.

"Ribbit."

"Since when were sharks scared of frogs?" James demanded. "And why me? Why not Padfoot? Why not Moony, seeing as his shark-scaring techniques seem to be getting crappier by the second."

Sirius slid down to lie next to Remus. "Because I'm the _hero_ , you prat. The hero never gets eaten."

"And Moony probably tastes funny," Peter said with a sigh.

Sirius sat up indignantly, rocking the raft, and declared, "I can assure you that he does _not_ taste funny!"

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Then Peter said, a little too brightly, "D'you think we could roast a shark?"


End file.
